


the birds and the bees

by trixiesmattel



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Sex education au, Slow Burn, bob is trixie's gay best friend, katya is a teacher, mom! trixie, trixie is a sexual psychologist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixiesmattel/pseuds/trixiesmattel
Summary: trixie is a sex therapist with a very large clientele, however she's managed to make room for one new patient who makes her question everything. (or, in other words, 'sex education' au kind of, but not really.)
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 82
Kudos: 198





	1. let's talk about sex.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so, i'm currently obsessed with the show 'sex education' on netflix, and couldn't stop writing this last night. i basically wrote this entire chapter in a few hours so forgive me if it's a little messy. my mind was working faster than my fingers typing. i currently have about 4 wip's, some of them being 'htd' and this one of course, but i couldn't wait to share them all with you - hence why i'm posting this already.
> 
> come find me on tumblr @iqkittygirl

Trixie’s hot pink pencil skirt crept up her thicker thighs as she adjusted herself in the single lounge chair, her ankles crossing one over the other. Her wire-rimmed glasses slid down the bridge of her nose somewhat as she jotted a series of notes down on the clipboard secured in her left hand. 

“…and you said you feel unsatisfied when Pearl goes down on you? What makes it a less than pleasurable experience for you?” She discarded her pen in the bun of her hairdo – half her golden locks had been drawn into a messy bun at the back of her head, tendrils spilling from her hairline due to a fringe that had grown out about six months ago.

“I tell her what I want, but she doesn’t listen,” The raven-haired vixen huffed, her hands either side of her thighs on the couch. She looked defeated; her face almost drawn. “She thinks she knows better.”

“Violet, you have to stand your ground,” Trixie leaned in, her cream pussy-bow blouse gently choking the collar of her neck, but it didn’t bother her too much – in fact the pressure reminded her very much of something she’d rather be doing right now. “Sex is a mutual exchange of pleasure. You can’t fake an orgasm to boost your partner’s ego. Otherwise you’ll end up taking two ibuprofen every night to falsify a headache just to bypass sex and go to bed.”

The woman’s hands came together, her ruby red nails picking at one another – cuticles surrendering to the small amount of torture. Trixie picked up on everything; every patient’s mannerisms spoke bounds when their words fell short. Body language was far more potent that any piece of verbal information or fallacy they decided to exchange with her.

Violet cringed somewhat, tilting her head to the side, and that told Trixie everything she needed to know.

“You’re already doing that?” She sighed. 

“I don’t want to let her down!” Violet threw her hands up out of surrender, but before Trixie could even reply, the timer on her phone began to sound.

She took the glasses off of her face, setting them down on the small coffee table beside her, beside a half-consumed glass of water on a coaster. Turning off the alarm, she exhaled slowly, glancing back over at her patient. 

“That’s all the time we have for this week, Violet. Your homework is to be more honest in the bedroom – and stop taking ibuprofen if you don’t have a headache.”

They both stood at the same time, Trixie secured the clipboard under her arm, before reaching over to Violet with her right hand. She was met with a decent enough handshake – a gesture that the blonde put too much emphasis on, to be quite honest. She was rigid in strange ways, which completely juxtaposed her job as a sex therapist. She was entirely different with her patients; professional, yet carefree, with barely a filter.

“I’ll see you next week, same time.” She clarified with a small smile. “Have a good rest of your evening, Violet.” Trixie showed her out of her home office, walked her down the hall of the house and out the front door. Upon closing it, she felt a small tug at the end of her skirt.

“Mommy, can we eat now?” A pair of big brown eyes peered up at her. Daisy was the spitting image of her mother – blonde bouncy curls and all. She’d barely inherited much from her father, which Trixie was extremely thankful for. Daisy had been the result of an irresponsible one-night stand, which was hilarious considering her profession and how she should have been a stickler for safe sex.

She bent down to the six-year-old, tapping her index finger against her nose. 

“Honeybear, is it okay if you eat with Bobby tonight? I know he’s put Dino-nuggets in the oven just for you.”

Right on cue, a set of footsteps sounded against the hardwood floor coming down the hall to the two of them. Without a word, Bob picked up the child, hoisting her on his hip. Daisy clutched at his chambray shirt, taking the hat from the top of his head and putting it on top of her own. The accessory was far too big and drooped over her eyes, cutting off her vision. Trixie couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

“Hey, where’d you go!?” Daisy pouted. 

Trixie leaned over, adjusting the hat to sit precariously at the back of her head. Bob was beaming a smile, too. As the woman’s best friend, he had very much proudly taken up the role of Daisy’s gay uncle. He babysat quite a lot because of the Barbie’s work hours, but he loved Daisy like his own daughter.

Bob was always someone Trixie could confide in, and basically had been since high school. They were both fell somewhere on the LGBT spectrum, and there was never a threat of a relationship sparking between the two because of it. They were platonic soulmates in every sense of the phrase, and she counted her blessings every day to have him in her life.

“So, what do you say? Dino-nuggets with Uncle Bobby?” Trixie pressed a soft kiss to her daughter’s cheek, leaving behind a pink print of lipstick. 

“I even put sweet potato fries in the oven too.” Bob did a little dance which playfully shook Daisy about, much to her joy.

“Yum, okay!” She beamed.

“I just have one more session tonight, then I promise we can do some colouring in and watch a Disney film.” Trixie was sure Daisy would fall asleep mid-movie, but she didn’t mind. There was something so special about having her daughter fall asleep on her lap, carrying her up to bed and tucking her in. With her hectic schedule, it was crucial to just take what she could get right now.

Work had been exceptionally busy lately – they were approaching a new school year, coming into Fall, which somehow also added pressure upon marital relationships. It was like clockwork every year. Granted, she was extremely thankful for the new clients, purely because it meant more money in her back pocket at the end of the day. 

Only a few seconds later, the doorbell rang.

“C’mon little one, dinner time.” Bob carried Daisy off towards the kitchen. 

Trixie closed her eyes and took a deep breath to centre herself – it was a tiny ritual she did prior to every new patient. Usually, with her regulars, she could work out a rhythm, but going in without much prior knowledge was daunting at best.

She opened the front door to a woman with an athletic build, long ash blonde hair and a dress that reminded her of Wednesday Addams. She sported a red lip with dark eye makeup to match. The sight of this woman alone caused Trixie’s breath to hitch in her throat.

“Yekaterina?” She butchered the pronunciation of her name slightly, which caused the woman to chuckle.

“Just call me Katya.”

“Well, Katya. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Trixie.”

She reached out her hand as common practice, noticing that her fingertips were shaking slightly, her palm clammy at the proposition of contact. Katya took her hand, shaking firmly, but not hard enough to hurt her. The gesture impressed her. She ushered her inside, and over to her office, closing the door behind the two of them. 

The golden blonde poured Katya a glass of water, setting it down on the coffee table in front of the couch where the woman was now sitting. Trixie wandered to her desk, taking out the small file that she’d already started for this new patient, and set the printed out check-up form on her clipboard, alongside a few spare sheets of paper. Swallowing hard, she took a seat in her usual chair across from Katya.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself.” Trixie gave her a small smile, pen now coming down from the bun in her hair, ready to take notes.

“About my sex life, or just me in general?” Katya raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s start off with you in general first, yes? What do you do for a living?”

“Oh, easy question!” This woman seemed nervous, slightly jumpy because of it. ‘Perhaps she had a few erratic traits,’ Trixie thought, and jotted that down. “I’m an elementary school teacher. Third grade. That’s why I’m wearing this outfit!” Katya smoothed out her black dress, and Trixie shrugged somewhat.

“You dress like you’re attending a funeral, to teach school children? Interesting.” She furrowed her brow as she joked, eliciting a laugh from her counterpart, too.

“I’m a professional, thank you very much.” Katya said matter-of-factly. 

“Okay, Sabrina the Teenage Bitch, continue.” Trixie mused, duly noting that Katya’s age on her slip was 38 – only five years older than herself.

The woman cackled once more, a slightly piercing sound that only deepened Trixie’s smile.

“I’m single. Well, I couldn’t keep a girlfriend even if I tried, I think I have commitment issues but I want to find my person,” Katya noted. “I like sex, _a lot_. I self-diagnosed myself with a sex addiction, but then I realised how toxic and dangerous it was to diagnose myself in the first place. I enjoy sex, not with men though, only with women. I’m gay as hell, Trixie. I just think there’s so many women in this world, and I’m scared I won’t get to fuck every single one of them, so I always try my luck and nine times out of ten, I end up with my head between someone’s thighs.”

Trixie’s eyes widened, not at the information she was receiving, but rather the fact that it seemed as though Katya failed to come up for air whatsoever during that small monologue. 

“Oh my god, I’ve scared you off haven’t I!” Katya saw Trixie’s shocked expression, and immediately panicked. 

“Not at all,” The therapist reassured her. “I’m just surprised how long you can hold your breath for, Jesus Christ.”

“What’s the verdict then, doc?” Katya probed.

“Oh. Can’t help you. Lost cause.” Trixie turned her gaze to the page, bullet-pointing some information that this woman had just relayed to her. Her dry humour was sure as hell going to get her in trouble someday – she knew it, thankfully though, Katya understood. “I’ll tell you what I do know so far…you have a New England accent, so you’re local – born and raised. You feel guilty about having so much sex and expressing yourself sexually for some reason. I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of that, and you apparently drink too much caffeine past 4pm to be exerting this much energy.”

“Had my last Red Bull only half an hour ago.” Katya said proudly.

“I don’t doubt it.” She smirked, eyeing down the woman before her. Trixie noted that on Katya’s wrists were black tattoos peeking out from under her sleeves – both looked almost like cats from this angle. “Do you have any coping mechanisms other than caffeine? I see you’ve written down that you’re a smoker.”

“Smoking is a vice, mhmm,” The platinum blond tapped her chin. “I used to be heavily addicted to drugs, but I don’t do that anymore, and I’ve been sober for 8 years now.”

“Congratulations.” Trixie took her glass of water, doing a simple ‘cheers’ in the woman’s direction.

“But now I feel like sex has just taken the place of that. I used to be a hooker, before I decided to get my teaching degree. Now I just sleep with people for free.” Katya clasped her hands together happily. 

“Sex is meant to be a pleasurable experience Katya, wanting it often is not an illness. When it creeps into every single thought, and jeopardises other parts of your life, then I’d say it’s an addiction. Do you have many partners? You left that section of the form empty.”

“Oh yeah, because I don’t really have an exact number.”

“And you’re being tested regularly? Sexual health is important. You’re being safe?”

“Clean as whistle!” Katya exclaimed. “Mama, you tell me who uses dental dams nowadays.”

This woman had a point. So many women relied on trust, and testing, as a form of protection. The rate of STI contraction between women who slept with women was quite low, however she always advocated for protection and safe sex. 

Trixie dodged the statement.

“Tell me in your own words why you’ve come to me?”

“I want to settle down,” Katya’s tone of voice changed slightly, she was being painfully honest. “I said I have commitment issues. Trust issues, too. I sleep with someone different every night, but all I want is to find a home in someone who’ll stick around.”

Trixie’s heart ached at this admission, her throat going dry – the kind of feeling you get when you’re about to cry. There was a certain amount of hurt in her voice that triggered something within her. She was not about to become emotional in front of a client though. There had been certain times after meetings where Trixie would cry herself to sleep from hearing other people’s problems; she was an empath to a certain extent. But she’d grown this thick skin that almost made her emotions seem impenetrable, until now.

Loneliness hit her differently – it was a feeling she knew all too well. She never really had anyone stay the night in her bed ever since Daisy came along, knowing that it was unfair on her child. Sure, Bob had stayed over many a time, but that was a different kind of love.

“Are there any of your sexual partners that you could envision a future with?”

“No,” Katya spoke outwardly. “And they all have their own issues too. I’m not about to allow someone to settle down with me when I have all this crazy baggage in my wake. People have their own shit to deal with. Why would they want to cope with my problems too?”

“I don’t think it’s about that,” Trixie advised. “Everyone has their own issues, yes, but each day is a different battlefield. You have to hold hands and tread through whatever comes your way – you fight things together. There can be a certain sense of comfort knowing that you’re not alone in combat.” 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Katya quipped curiously.

“I do not. I don’t really dabble in the realm of _men_ anymore. But that’s not how this dynamic works – the patient doesn’t question the therapist.”

“Right, right!” Katya shook her head.

“You also didn’t fill in the section on sexual kinks and aver-”

“Well do you have a girlfriend then?” Katya interrupted.

Trixie huffed, leaning against the back of the chair.

“No.”

“Married?”

“No.”

“Huh. I think that’s really cool.”

“You think it’s really cool that I’m a 32-year-old sexual psychologist who doesn’t even have a partner herself?” Trixie scoffed.

“Sure, seems a little hypocritical, but like…very boss bitch, career woman vibes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, all the kids are saying it these days.” Katya laughed, immediately evoking the same spirit from Trixie. “It’s all about the _vibes_.”

“Now, let’s go back to the question, before I was _rudely_ interrupted. Do you have any sexual kinks?”

“Everything, all of them.” Katya nodded, leaning forward. She rested her elbows on her knees, her chin now in the palm of her hands as she watched Trixie. “Except for maybe piss, I haven’t tried the whole shit thing, but that doesn’t seem like-”

Before she could even finish her sentence, a small tyrant burst through the door, a half-eaten Dino-nugget in hand.

“Mommy are you done yet? I wanna watch Princess Tiana.”

Trixie stood up immediately, setting her clipboard down on the side-table. Bob came running in after her, flustered. 

“Trixie, I’m so sorry. I went to the bathroom, she promised she’d stay at the table.”

“It’s alright,” Trixie assured him with a small smile before turning her attention to her daughter. “Nearly, baby girl. I promise. Patience is a what?”

“Ver-chew.” Daisy nodded, mouth full of her dinner.

“A virtue, right,” Trixie kissed her forehead. “Now go on.”

“I heard her say a bad word.” Daisy now pointed to Katya on the couch, who acted completely shocked.

“You misheard me,” Katya lied. “I said ‘sheet’, like a bedsheet.”

“No, you said shit.” Daisy argued back playfully. 

“Okay!” Trixie cut her off, escorting her out of the room, Bob nearly keeling over in laughter. “Be good, finish your dinner, I love you.”

She shut the door behind the two, knowing full well that her best friend would take care of her daughter. Turning her attention back to her patient, she grimaced slightly.

“I’m sorry about that.” Trixie apologised, taking her seat once more.

“Don’t, she’s adorable,” Katya’s features had lit up once more. “Yours?”

“Mine,” She set her clipboard back in her lap. “She’s six going on sixty, I swear to God. I’m sorry for the backchat, too.”

“Trust me, I deal with kids far worse than that little angel every day, she’s fine.” 

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Trixie added. “Now…where were we? Yes. Kinks.”

* * *

During the session, Trixie had come to understand that Katya was extremely sexually open and didn’t have any aversions whatsoever. They discussed her commitment issues, and the fact that she’d never really had a long-term relationship before. Trixie made a note to work on exercises regarding trust, until her next visit.

She walked the platinum blonde teacher to the front door; the daylight having completely merged into night outside. 

“Do you prefer cash every session?” Katya asked, already reaching for her wallet in her embroidered handbag.

“It’s alright – I’ll email you an invoice for tonight, it’ll instruct you on transferring the money.”

There was a pause of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable whatsoever. Trixie had done her job for the evening, but there was an inkling within her that didn’t want Katya to leave. She never got attached to her clients – that was the first regulation of being a therapist, but she genuinely bonded with Katya, no matter how unyielding she came across. 

“Thank you for this, Trixie,” The woman smiled once more. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Enjoy your night, Katya.”

The Dolly Parton lookalike shut the door, her hands lingering on the wood panelling for a moment. There was something so entrancing about Katya that simply drew her in. But there was no way in hell she would act on that whatsoever – she was a professional, in every sense of the word.

Trixie kicked off her high heels, padded her way down the hall to the kitchen where Daisy and Bob were preoccupied with colouring in ‘Beauty and the Beast’ outlines. 

“I put some vegetarian nuggets in with our dinner, and there’s some fries left too.” He lazily pointed over to the top of the stove where her food was still sitting on an oven tray. Trixie let out a grateful moan of relief, piling her food on to a plate. She poured herself a reasonable glass of red wine to match before taking her seat at the table beside two of her favourite people.

“I really appreciate dinner.” Trixie picked at her food.

“Hey, as long as it means you’re eating something, that’s the main thing.” He reasoned with a small smile. 

Trixie grabbed his hand with her free one, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Honey, I don’t think Simba is pink.” She commented on her daughter’s work, who was furiously scribbling the lion in with pink crayon.

“Simba can be pink if he wants.” Daisy retorted.

“Oh,” Trixie nodded. “You’re right. He can be whatever he wants to be. Did you ask him if he wants to be pink? Did you get his consent first?”

“He said he wants to be pink.”

“That’s perfect then.” She grinned, popping some fries into her mouth.

Once Trixie had finished her meal, she said goodbye to Bob, with a ‘thank you’ to match. It was times like this when she realised how difficult it was to be a single parent – but she was so ridiculously lucky to have her best friend around to help whenever she needed. Of course she had a babysitter for Daisy, but there was something different about entrusting that task to Bob. 

Meeting her daughter back in the living room, Trixie turned on ‘The Princess and the Frog’. She hiked her feet up on the couch, to the side of her, her heels aching from a day of wearing heels despite the fact she sat for the majority of it – it didn’t make the shoes hurt any less, but she loved how they looked. Daisy danced around to the opening music, twirling whenever she could. Trixie swore this little girl was going to pass out from spinning, but alas, she didn’t. 

As tiredness took over the six-year-old, she took her place on the couch next to her mother. A few scenes of the animation passed, and Daisy had rested her head down on her mother’s lap. Trixie ran her fingers through her daughter’s long locks, untangling any knots that had gathered throughout the day’s activities. Tomorrow was her first day back at school, in a new year nonetheless, and it made Trixie ponder how time had passed so quickly. It was a cliché that years went by in the blink of an eye, but each month seemed to go faster than the last. Daisy was growing up, and as much as she wished she had another stable adult figure in her life, she knew this little girl was developing into a person who had a good heart and an even brighter future.

She was proud of her little girl, and proud of herself for managing to raise her. An hour drifted by and Daisy had fallen fast asleep. Trixie turned off the film, securing her daughter in her arms like a baby koala clinging to its mother. She carried her upstairs, the wood creaking out a little from the weight of the two of them. The Barbie settled the little girl down against her pink sheets, thankful that she was already in her pyjamas because of Bob. He followed a routine, which seemed to be key in her schedule of daily life and keeping everything under control.

Tucking her in, she flicked on the nightlight which sprinkled baby pink stars along Daisy’s cream ceiling. 

“Goodnight honeybear.” She whispered, knowing full-well that she was too deep in slumber to hear. 

Trixie quietly crept her way over to her bedroom and discarded her day’s face of makeup with a wipe and moisturiser. She brushed out her hair – her scalp aching slightly from half of her locks being tied in a bun all day. This was one of her favourite moments of the day; pure quiet, with the reflection of the moonlight on Nabnasset Pond shining off in the distance behind her. As much as she wished she had someone to share this moment with, she was extremely grateful for what she had.


	2. just a touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for this chapter: anxiety.
> 
> i know i have to put out a new chapter of 'htd', i promise that's coming next but i couldn't stop writing this one again. from the absolute bottom of my heart, i want to say thank you for all the love y'all gave me in the first chapter of this fic. it completely blew me away, i was so overwhelmed to see that so many of you love it.
> 
> come find me on tumblr: @iqkittygirl
> 
> i can't wait to take you on this journey with me.  
> i love you. x

Trixie had already been awake from an hour or so – in opposition to her college days, ever since she became a mother, she was forced to become a morning person. She had showered, curled her hair to perfection, and put on a full face of makeup complete with winged liner and a pale pink lipstick. 

It was Daisy’s first day of grade three, so the child was being even more particular about how she wanted to dress.

“Can I wear my Minnie Mouse ears?” The young one asked, shaking around the corresponding headband from when she’d been surprised with a trip to Disney World a year prior. 

“Maybe another day, Daze. You can pick one of these headbands though.” Trixie reasoned.

Her daughter was clad in a white turtleneck and a pink corduroy pinafore with miniature Converse and frilly socks just brushing her ankles. Daisy contemplated the options her mother was holding up; a white lace, or a velveteen one. She was only human, so she picked the softer looking piece.

Trixie secured the velvet accessory in Daisy’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head to complete the entire look with a gesture of love. She got back down on to the ground, crossing her legs. Today she wore a pastel yellow jumpsuit, belted at the waist to show off her curves, making the movement easier than what it would have been in a tight dress. 

“How’re you going to greet your new teacher and classmates?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Hello Miss…” The child trailed off, trying to remember her teacher’s name.

Hell, Trixie’s memory wasn’t serving her either. She leaned over to her daughter’s backpack and pulled out the information slip with her book list attached. It didn’t even have the teacher’s name on it – just her class, ‘3B’ with the corresponding room number.

“Okay, well, when you find out your teacher’s name that’s a great start,” She encouraged. “What about your friends?”

“Hello shits.”

“Daisy!”

The six-year-old flushed a deep shade of pink, a cheeky grin on her lips. She knew exactly how to wind her mother up. 

“No swearing, especially not at school.”

“But I learnt a new word.”

“Do you think Belle, or Tiana, or Ariel would say cuss words?”

“Ariel can’t talk much.” Daisy pointed out.

“Exactly, I’ll steal your little voice box too if you say the S-word again.” She threatened playfully, leaning in towards her daughter and attacking her with tickles. Trixie began to sing a small verse of ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ to tease her little girl further, but Daisy looked as though she was having the time of her life, collapsing against her mother in hysterical laughter. “Okay my little mermaid, Cap’n Crunch for breakfast?”

As Daisy calmed down, she skipped over to her bed, picking up her Flounder stuffed toy before retreating downstairs with Trixie in tow. The mother fixed breakfast for the both of them, including a bowl of fruit, and a piece of toast for each. Watching on, her daughter piled peanut butter on her slice, switching one bite interchangeably between the cereal and the bread, then a gulp of orange juice.

As time ticked on by, Trixie ensured that her daughter brushed her teeth, and they headed out the door with her purse, and Daisy’s backpack. The car journey was long enough, considering they truly lived on the edge of a medium sized town by the name of Westford. It’s the kind of place that had a rather small-homey feel to it, and Trixie appreciated that greatly after going to college in Boston.

They listened to Dolly Parton on their journey – she always tried her best to influence Daisy with her music taste, and for the most part, the little girl enjoyed it, wiggling around in the backseat. Trixie was a good singer; she knew that much. Her and her guitar got her through procrastinating so many assignment and study sessions in college, but she’d carried her love for music throughout her adult life thus far. 

‘Coat of Many Colours’ faded through the speakers, and Trixie felt an instant pang in her heart. This song made her think of her less-than-fortunate upbringing, despite having managed to turn her life around into what she would consider her own little success story. Turning the car engine off, she climbed out of the vehicle, her bag in one hand, and Daisy’s backpack over the opposite shoulder. The little girl jumped out of the car, enthusiastically bouncing on her heels as they made their way to the main entrance.

It was a rather large elementary school – mainly because it was conjoined with a high school right next door. They were segregated for safety of course, but it was convenient knowing that she wouldn’t have to cart Daisy off to another destination once she’d outgrown that portion of her life. 

The two walked hand in hand down the hall to Daisy’s assigned classroom, number 121. Parents sprawled the space, saying goodbye to their children. Admittedly, Trixie and Daisy were one of the last ones for the morning drop-off run. As soon as they stepped foot in the door, Trixie’s jaw dropped the moment she saw the teacher writing on the whiteboard. 

“Shit.” The Barbie’s mouth fell open slightly. 

“Hey! You said a bad word at school!” Daisy hadn’t caught sight of the schoolteacher quite yet, too distracted by looking around at all her classmates. “Miss, she said a bad word!”

Trixie would have covered her daughter’s mouth on any given day, but she was too distracted by the blonde in a deep red blazer, tight black jeans that hugged her ass, and a pair of heeled Doc Marten boots.

The defiant child finally spotted the woman who had been sitting in Trixie’s study only the night before. Katya was grinning, her bold white teeth gleaming perfectly against her slightly tanned skin. 

“Well, well, who do we have here?” The older of the two women spoke, sparing but a glance at Trixie for barely a second, before turning her attention to Daisy. “I don’t believe we introduced ourselves properly yesterday.” Katya squatted down to the little girl’s height, and Trixie swore her muscular thighs were going to rip the skin-tight denim. “I’m Miss Zamo.”

Trixie remembered the woman’s full name on her patient form was even past her point of pronunciation, so she’d obviously shortened it for the sake of her students. There was something extremely hilarious about six-year-old’s trying to pronounce ‘Zamolodchikova’. 

“I’m Daisy.” The little blonde beamed, immediately putting her arms out to hug her new teacher. 

“Now wait just a second,” Katya arched her brow, holding her up her index finger. “May I hug you?” 

Daisy nodded emphatically, and the woman then looked up at Trixie from under her long lashes. The view that Trixie got immediately triggered her mind to think of many unsavoury scenarios where Katya would be on her knees. ‘Dear God, pull yourself together,’ Trixie practically yelled at herself in her mind.

“May I hug your daughter?” She asked.

“Go for it,” Trixie directed, her voice wavering somewhat. “She’s very affectionate –probably got that from her father because God knows it’s not from me.” Truthfully, she was an affectionate person with the people she loved, but not so much with strangers, or in this case…patients.

As Katya embraced the small child, Trixie wandered over to the cubbies and slid her daughter’s backpack into the one labelled ‘Daisy’ – the ‘I’s had been dotted with tiny little daisy drawings. Knowing that Katya had labelled all these made it even more endearing. Her heart slowed now, swelling somewhat at the sight, before wandering back to the pair.

Daisy ran off to some of her friends from the previous school year, leaving her and Katya alone amongst the first day chaos. 

“Why didn’t you let me know you’d be teaching Daisy last night?” Trixie’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Oh, that’s really appropriate,” Katya mused. “Here’s all my sexual issues and qualms about why I can’t manage to keep a girlfriend down, by the way, I noticed the name ‘Mattel’ on my class list – my messed up self will be teaching your child the standard US curriculum for the next twelve months.”

“When you say it like that…” Trixie trailed off with a small pout, admitting defeat. Katya was right – it would have been a weird thing to bring up during a therapy session. Her eyesight beelined for her daughter, worried about whether or not she’d fit into a new class. Of course she had friends, but she remembered how difficult it was for herself growing up. The concern was obviously showing on her features, because Katya spoke a second later.

“I’ll take good care of her,” The teacher assured her. Trixie would be lying to herself if she admitted that those words weren’t comforting. “I’ve got it from here.”

“I know.” Trixie hadn’t taken her eyes off Daisy, who was bonding with her two friends, yelling excitedly about dolls. “Try send her home with something new she’s learnt today then.”

“But Trixie,” Katya taunted. “That’s not how this dynamic works,” She winked, reciting the woman’s words from the night before. “I’m the teacher. I set the homework.”

* * *

“Bobby, I swear, I just want to scream,” Trixie spoke with her phone on loudspeaker as she began chopping up tomatoes for the evening’s dinner. Daisy was in the living room, happily playing with her Barbie’s whilst ‘The Powerpuff Girls’ was on the television. “Katya’s ass looked so good in those jeans I was _this_ ,” She pinched her fingers together, although Bob couldn’t see. “Close to an orgasm just from looking at her.”

“Do you like her?” He asked from the other end.

“I don’t like anyone, I barely tolerate you.” She shrugged, scooping up the chopped tomatoes and adding them to a saucepan of already sautéed garlic. 

“Girl, you find someone as fabulous as me, I dare you.” Bob drawled.

Trixie added a small jar of passata to create a pasta sauce, seasoning with a spoonful of brown sugar, and salt and pepper. 

“Unfortunately, it’s slim pickings, and you’re the only one who was willing to follow me back from Boston to Westford.”

“That’s because I devoured every man there – I needed more options.”

“P-Town exists.” Trixie teased.

“You and I both know that place is hardly even bearable in the Summer.”

“You could try.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve swerved the topic away from your love life.”

“There’s no love life for you to talk about.” Trixie moved the wooden spoon to another pot, stirring the pasta as it cooked in the boiling water. She set the utensil down on the bench and began tearing up basil to drop amongst the tomatoes. 

“I asked you if you liked her.” Bob reiterated.

“…and I said I don’t like anyone,” Trixie heard her phone vibrate. Glancing over to the screen she saw an incoming call from Katya. The devil had perfect timing apparently. “Bobby, I’ll give you call back after dinner, I have a client trying to get a hold of me.”

“Which one?”

“Patient-therapist confidentiality, I’m _so_ sorry.” She hung up, in turn answering Katya’s call.

“Trixie Mattel speaking.”

“Wow, sex hotlines have really upgraded since the last time I used one.” The woman pondered.

“How can I help you this evening? Is it urgent?”

“Do you do phone consultations?”

“Only if absolutely necessary.” She took the small pot of pasta, draining it in a colander in the sink. She stirred through the sauce, a faint squelching sound echoing throughout the kitchen, obviously loud enough for Katya to hear judging by her next comment.

“Are – are you having sex?”

“It’s pasta, Katya.”

“This isn’t a very good sex hotline.” The platinum blonde tutted on the other end of the line.

“Can I call you back after dinner? I’m about to test if you’ve done your job properly to see whether or not I should do mine…actually, stay on the line, this might be interesting.” Trixie served up the pasta into two bowls before calling out Daisy’s name, letting her know dinner was ready.

The six-year-old bounced in with a Barbie she’d given an obscene haircut to. 

“Honeybear, you never told me what Miss Zamo taught you today.” Trixie took out a fork for herself, and a smaller one for her daughter, setting the plates down on the table. She made sure to bring over her cell phone, where Katya was eagerly waiting on the other end – completely silent.

“I learnt how to write ‘my name is Daisy’ by myself, no book.”

Trixie immediately knew she meant that she didn’t trace over letters in a workbook – that she’d handwritten the sentence without any resource to copy from. 

“Baby girl, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

“Miss Zamo taught us about other places in the world. Did you know there’s other places in the world than ‘Merica?” The little tyke had already began eating.

“Thank God for that,” Trixie mused. “What places did you learn about?”

“Um…” Daisy tapped her fork aimlessly against the ceramic bowl as she crinkled her face in deep though. “Rah-sa.”

“Russia?”

“Yep!”

“What did Miss Zamo tell you about Russia?”

“Something about the pre-si-dent winning something because of Rah-sa.” Evidently ‘sh’ sounds were something Daisy struggled with, along with three syllable words, meanwhile Trixie just about choked on her food.

She grabbed her phone immediately.

“US curriculum my ass,” It was evident Trixie was smiling just from her tone of voice. “I’ll call you back soon.”

* * *

Once Daisy had been put to bed, and was soundly sleeping, Trixie made an effort to take off her makeup and change into a mini pale pink silk nightie. It was one of the most comfortable things she owned, purely because it hugged her curves so well, and the lace detail along the upper and lower hemline left no room for irritation against her soft skin. Her curls had dropped slightly after being brushed out, but the best part about phone consultations was that she didn’t have to look like a picture.

She still preferred to work in her office though – knowing that all of her resources were at arm’s length. She had a collection of sexual psychology books lining a few shelves, a plethora of notebooks and files to match her patients. She had decided to forgo the main light, opting instead for a desk lamp to provide the illumination she needed. The window of her room was open, sparking faint goose bumps to prick her skin on this cool New England evening, but there was something so enticing about nighttime fresh air.

Trixie found Katya’s contact in her phone, pressing call and loudspeaker as she composed the patient’s paperwork. Her glasses found the familiar small indent on the bridge of her nose.

“I thought you were going to bail on me.” Katya answered the call.

“You technically pay my bills,” Trixie noted. “I can’t bail on you.”

“So I have the upper hand? That’s interesting.”

“No.” 

“Why did I call again?”

“You tell me.”

There was a pause of silence on both ends.

“Oh, right!” Katya’s voice slightly distorted as she yelped. “I’m not sleeping with anyone tonight and it feels strange – sort of makes me feel empty? Without purpose?”

“Sex doesn’t make us whole, Katya.” She wrote down a note about the woman’s faltered self-esteem. “How do you feel about yourself during intercourse?”

“I think I’m the universe’s gift to womankind,” She was being deadly serious. Trixie bit down on her plump lower lip to stop herself laughing. “You can’t tell me there’s nothing more confidence boosting than making a woman writhe through an orgasm that you produced…”

“I’m not about to tell you to stand in front of your bathroom mirror with a printed-out sheet of mantras to repeat.” Trixie reasoned. 

“Mama, masturbation is the only mantra I need, queen of self-love right here.” The irony was thick, and Katya faked a moan on the other end, finally making the therapist break into laughter.

“Masturbation can be an extremely effective confidence booster – if oneself can understand their body completely, it starts to reflect on the outside,” Trixie’s teeth toyed with the end the pen in her right hand monetarily. “Katya, do you orgasm when you’re with your sexual partners?”

“Rarely,” She reasoned. “I usually prefer to get them off, and then they leave. I order them an Uber when I can, I’m not a psychopath.”

“Are you aroused though, after those partners have reached completion?” Trixie’s repertoire for the word ‘orgasm’ had grown exponentially since studying sexual psychology in college. 

“Well, yes, I’m only human.” Katya scoffed.

“And they don’t return the favour? Or you don’t pleasure yourself?” 

“They never really offer, so I just end up falling asleep after they’ve left. I usually have to be up early for work anyway.”

“Katya, you deserve pleasure as much as your partners do.”

“No, no, I know!” Her tone slightly hairbrained. “I just don’t.”

“Do you have someone there tonight?” Trixie questioned.

“No, surprisingly.”

“Perfect timing, then. Experiment with yourself. Find out what _you_ like, without having to worry about anyone else.”

“What do you suggest, Trixie?” Katya’s voice slightly more of a whisper than usual. It caused Trixie to clear her throat the moment she heard the woman’s velvet-like tone.

“Start off simple. Clit stimulation – fingers or a vibrator, that’s your prerogative. If you’re going to use your hands, try using your dominant hand to do that, and insert two fingers inside of yourself, curled up towards the G-spot for optimum pleasure,” The talk was all very clinical, Trixie had run through this spiel so many times before, even to groups of women. “You can do two at once, I assure you. It’s like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time – co-ordination is a muscle. You can build it up if it seems messy at first. But if you don’t enjoy something, stop. Don’t lie to yourself. You have no one else to perform for. Have fun with it.”

Another bout of silence overcame Katya, and Trixie’s mouth went dry.

“This is a safe space,” The psychologist’s voice softened, her heart coming through. She tended to not let emotion into any professional matters, but empathy was hard to kick. “Your own body is a safe space. You’re worthy of feeling pleasure, Katya – and not at the expense of anyone else.” 

The affirmation was enough to finally provoke a few words from the patient.

“Thank you, Trix.”

The little nickname caused her to smile. No one ever really shortened her name, especially none of her clients – she was either just Trixie or Miss Mattel. _Trix_ was a much-appreciated change, almost making her seem more approachable.

“Send me the invoice for tonight, okay?” Katya continued.

“Don’t worry about it, an orgasm from you this evening is payment enough by the sounds of it.” She joked.

“You rotted bitch!” The woman on the other end howled.

“Enjoy your night.”

* * *

A few days passed by, and Trixie was thankful to have Friday, Saturday and Sunday off work. She’d arranged a weekend away with Daisy – camping at the quarries not far from Westford. It was something Trixie organised every year, ensuring that Daisy knew how proud her mother was of her for completing her first week back at school. Because of that, today’s school drop-off attire was slightly more casual than her usual workwear. Her blue flared jeans skimmed the ground from the height of her heels, and she wore a vintage Dolly Parton tee tucked into the denim waistband. Her hair has already been set in her usual waves, looking like an early 70’s wet dream.

“I’ll pick you up at 3:30 on the dot,” Trixie tapped her little girl’s nose once, helping her out of the car with her backpack. “Then we’ll go straight to that little cabin at the quarry. You can help me make pizza for dinner, okay? What toppings do you want?”

“Roni!” That was Daisy’s code for ‘pepperoni’. Truthfully, Trixie swapped it out with vegetarian meat, and her daughter was none-the-wiser. 

“Alright, _roni_ pizza tonight, but you have to make sure to eat the apple slices I gave you, and the carrot sticks, and all of your sandwich.”

“And if I don’t?” The little one challenged.

“The roni pizza’s all mine, sorry!”

“No!” Daisy protested as they made their way to the classroom. 

“You want s’mores too?” Trixie queried, only to be met with an overly enthusiastic nod. 

She walked her daughter into the room, immediately feeling Katya’s eyes on her, scanning her figure. Bending over, she got out Daisy’s books, set her bag in her cubby, and got her situated in her seat. 

“See you this afternoon, baby girl.”

As Trixie readied herself to leave, she was stopped at the door by Katya. 

“Do you have a minute to talk?” The teacher seemed agitated, her fingers toying with one another. Anxiety was radiating off of her.

“Of course, is something wrong?” Trixie brought her hand to the woman’s arm comfortingly. “Are you okay?”

The therapist led her just outside of the classroom so she could still keep an eye on the students whilst they spoke. 

“I know this is outside of your hours, and I feel like I’m taking advantage of your profession Trix, but I feel like I can’t breathe today – like all the walls are closing in on me, and I can’t concentrate. I thought about calling in sick, but I needed to talk to you, and I knew you’d be dropping Daisy off. I just don’t know what to do. Maybe I’m delirious and coming down with a fever, maybe I’m –”

Trixie put one hand up between them.

“Katya,” She spoke with a certain firmness to stop the woman in her tracks. Trixie took the woman’s right hand, folding down her three middle fingers, leaving out her thumb and pinky. She led Katya’s hand up, pinching the woman’s right nostril closed. “Inhale.” She did as she was instructed. “Hold.” Trixie counted out three long seconds and switched Katya’s pinky to close her left nostril. “Exhale.”

Alternate nostril breathing was a common trick that she had studied to help her clients calm down if they became overwhelmed easily. She made Katya repeat the process twice more – a quick technique to help her ease her mind. 

“I’m sorry.” Katya was defeated.

“Never apologise for your feelings. They are valid. You are valid.”

“Do you think we could maybe schedule an appointment later?”

Trixie’s heart sank. As much as she appreciated her clients, her daughter truly did come first – there was no arguing that. Daisy was always her priority, and she knew how much this weekend meant to her.

“I’m taking Daisy camping for the weekend. We go to the quarry every year – sort of the last weekend of Summer, you know?” Trixie frowned slightly, her eyes searching Katya’s crystal blue hues.

She couldn’t put her finger on why her heart ached so badly. She’d said ‘no’ to clients before. Her stomach twisted, panging with hurt. There were options; she could pass her along to another therapist, or maybe even to stay at an institution for a few nights to seek short-term help. But the thought of palming her off on to someone else seemed ignorant and just plain rude. This was _her_ client, and in turn Trixie was Katya’s safe space.

“I’ll be okay.” The teacher nodded, faking a smile.

Trixie spared a glance to her daughter who was leaned over her desk, chatting away with one of her friends, then looked back to Katya.

“Come with us?” Her frown turning to a slight smile.

“I don’t want to impose; besides I don’t know if camping is my thing.”

“We have a cabin. Think of it more as _glamping_.” Trixie flicked her wrists stupidly, making Katya giggle slightly. The woman pondered her offer for a moment.

“Yeah,” She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to hear from you - comment below or send me an anon on tumblr about what you'd like to see from this fic? do y'all want more of bob and trixie's friendship? is this amount of daisy alright? what're we thinking?


	3. secrets to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi angels. i hope you're all doing well. i apologise in the small delay of this chapter. no tw or anything, just ~vibes~.
> 
> i love you all.
> 
> come find me on tumblr: @iqkittygirl.
> 
> x

The car’s playlist switched between medleys of Dolly, Loretta, and Nancy Sinatra. Trixie was still trying to find the words to break the news that they’d have another guest with them this weekend – Bob had come camping with them before, but he was someone Daisy had known since she was born. Katya was basically a stranger to her, and a client to Trixie. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the inclination to invite her in the first place. All she knew was that this woman was struggling, and she didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone with potentially no cell service on her end.

Her fingers tapped the steering wheel along to the beat of ‘Dumb Blonde’, as a litany of trees bypassed the road. Daisy happily snacked on apple slices in the back seat, contented with an iPad in her lap as she watched cartoons. 

“Hey Daze?” 

The little one looked up at her mother, bewildered. Not so much as an answer, but a grunt to reply.

“How would you feel if we had someone come camping with us this weekend?”

“Uncle Bob?”

“Not Uncle Bob,” Trixie pursed her lips somewhat. “What about your teacher, Miss Zamo?”

“But why?”

“I think she could really use a friend right now.” 

There was no way that Trixie would even try to explain her job description to her daughter – in Daisy’s words, ‘Mommy helped her friends be happier’, and at this point in her life, that’s all she needed to know.

“I don’t want to go to school this weekend though.” Daisy huffed.

“You’re not,” Trixie assured her. “I promise. We’re just going to have fun. No school.”

* * *

The pair had been at the cabin for a couple of hours now, and Trixie had unpacked their belongings for the weekend ahead. The sun was setting slightly earlier than usual lately, signalling the true end of Summer. She poured herself a small glass of white wine in a mason jar, as well as a glass of almond milk for Daisy who was sat on her bed flicking through a picture book. Despite not being able to read much, she still loved the concept of being a bookworm and looking at the pretty pictures. She’d tell her mother stories constantly, ones that Trixie knew she’d turn into short stories when she could string the sentences together with finesse.

Just before Trixie could get the ingredients for dinner ready, there was a gentle knock at the cabin door. She’d texted the campsite address and cabin number to Katya this morning just after dropping off Daisy. 

“Miss Zamo!” The little tyke jumped off the bed, throwing her book aside. It was even surprising to Trixie that she was so excited.

Before she could even get to the front door, her daughter had hauled it open. 

“Hi little one!” Katya waved, dropping her duffel bag for the weekend just beside the door. 

It made Trixie wonder if she should re-introduce this woman by her first name or would that only make the six-year-old inclined to call her that at school? This woman had barely been here a minute and she was struggling at what boundaries were meant to be set for everyone. 

Trixie watched on as Daisy held out her arms towards Katya, now expecting a hug. Instead, the older woman swooped her up in one swift movement, causing a squeal from the child, setting her securely on her left hip. 

“I’ve been reading!” She bounced, pointing over at the storybook on her bed, urging for her teacher’s approval almost. 

Meanwhile, Trixie backed her hips against the counter, taking a sip from her drink as she just watched on. 

“Oh, no ‘hi Trixie, how are you’? That’s _fine_.” 

Katya burst out laughing as she shot her a smile, heading over to the bed and picking up the book Daisy had been reading. 

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” The teacher mused, setting the child down to sit, before landing down next to her. “What do you think, Daisy? Do you think Trixums needs to calm down?”

“ _Trixums_?” She arched her brow, suddenly putting down her drink. “God, maybe it was a mistake inviting you here.” Her tone was a sarcastic drone. 

Both Katya and Daisy seemed to be preoccupied with the book, and Trixie took the lead on dinner. She had purchased pre-made pizza dough from the store and began rolling it out on two baking trays – ensuring enough food for the three of them. The chatter and giggles from the other two admittedly brought a smile to her lips. It was always a relief when she was around people who knew how to look after children, as it took the pressure off her momentarily. She loved being a mother, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t hard work.

“Daisy, do you want to put your ‘roni on?” Trixie called, adorning the crust with lashings of red sauce. 

An elated squeal filled the air as the child discarded her book, racing over to the kitchen. She could barely reach the counter but could messily scatter the vegetarian slices on the pizza. Katya followed behind her, taking her place beside Trixie. Their skin touched briefly as their arms brushed one another’s, the golden blonde reaching for her drink.

“Do you want something, I bought Red Bull and that caffeine free Coke?” She offered. “I didn’t know if you’d actually heed my no caffeine after 4pm advice, so I just got both.”

Katya contemplated for a moment, placing her hand on the base of Trixie’s back. The prolonged gesture made the therapists skin tingle, so she brushed off the feeling by taking another sip from her alcoholic beverage. The teacher reached around to the fridge, weighing up the two, before opting for the Coke. Trixie chewed the inside of her cheek, noting that this woman truly was listening to what she was saying after all.

* * *

After dinner, Daisy crashed following a day’s work at school and the excitement of going on a trip. She’d fallen asleep unexpectedly in the single bed that Trixie was going to propose Katya use instead, and Trixie bunk with her little girl. Rather, they decided not to disturb the peace, with the two women sharing a bed in the other room. However, it was barely 9pm and neither of them were even close to being tired.

There was a small landing of dirt and sand outside their cabin that led straight onto the lake. Trixie had gathered the firewood into a small bundle in the commercialised pit, as Katya grabbed the starter. 

“Do you know how to light a bonfire?” The 70’s doll asked.

“Yeah, I used to burn lizards when I was in elementary school.” Katya’s tone was dry as she lit a match, catching the starter alight before tossing it beneath the wood.

“…not the same thing.” She couldn’t help but laugh.

It was evenings like this that made Trixie so grateful that she’d moved away from Boston, to a much smaller town. There was silence surrounding them, aside from the cicadas chirping. The water of the lake stilled to a point where it barely made a sound. The evenings were still slightly muggy, especially in the woodland.

“Did you ever do anything like this when you were younger?” Katya asked.

“Similar events, different circumstances,” Trixie gave her a small smile. “I’d run away to the woods behind our house – my mother and stepfather never really noticed that I was gone.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it was nicer them not even acknowledging my existence, compared to the fighting or…anything else.”

From that explanation alone, it was entirely obvious that Trixie had a shaded upbringing, and it was rarely something she unpacked to anyone other than Bob. Although it was just supposed to be her and Daisy this weekend, she felt a certain sense of warmth from Katya’s company – but she was unsure whether that was because this woman was her patient, or if she actually wanted to befriend her.

The two relationships always starkly differed from one another. She had never become close with any of her clients, no matter how much she felt connected to them. Trixie was a professional in every sense of the word, and she couldn’t help but feel that maybe she was faltering now, so many years into her career. God, she wished Bob was here for her to rant to.

She was usually extremely good about sorting through her emotions and kicking her ego down, but the fact that she was so drawn to Katya seemed to be throwing a spanner in the works. 

“My family and I went camping once, I think?” The platinum blonde acknowledged, obviously wanting to get Trixie’s mind off her own previous home life. “My parents pretty much worked all year ‘round. My mom got so burnt out one year that she just up and left to vacation in China for two weeks without telling us.”

“I don’t blame her, have you met yourself?” Trixie joked, her best attempt to lighten the mood. A pang of guilt washed over her that maybe this woman wouldn’t understand her desert dry sense of humour, but thankfully Katya’s cackle said otherwise.

The Barbie took a seat on the dirt, watching as her companion padded towards the edge of the lake. There was a gentle breeze that sent the water towards them in minuscule waves – something so otherworldly seeing the reflection of the moon ricocheting off that blackened water. She watched Katya’s contemplation overcome her, as if she was treating the lake as a mirror. 

Soaking in the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable to Trixie. She felt no need to fill the space with aimless jokes, or unsolicited advice. Sometimes the things left unsaid made room for the most prominent thoughts, and tonight was no exception to that rule.

She offered a small glance back to the cabin, knowing Daisy was safe and sound in her slumber, before returning her brown hues back to Katya. The woman turned around; a mischievous grin plastered on her features.

“Oh no,” Trixie arched her brow. “I’m afraid to ask what you’re thinking.”

“Mother, the depths of the lake are calling my name again.” Katya’s quality was playfully sinister, and it made Trixie laugh. This woman was out of her mind in the best possible way – detached from reality, giving her a certain sense of whimsy. 

“What does that even mean?”

“Oh come on, Trixums,” Before she could even finish her sentence, the teacher had pulled off her sweater, tossing it to the ground. “We never got those stupid Americana high school and college camping experiences, right?”

“…right.” 

“So, let’s do it now, let’s go skinny dipping.”

Trixie was sure that her heart had landed somewhere beneath her on the dirt. The concept of ‘skinny dipping’ was so far out of her own wheelhouse – she hadn’t even entertained the idea since she was about 18 years old. 

“Katya, people are going to see.”

The platinum blonde exaggerated a gesture where she gazed around the small area they’d been allocated. 

“There’s not a single soul here other than you.” 

Trixie huffed to the side, flicking a few tendrils of her blonde hair for a moment. She was frigid, she knew that. It was a tendency that she’d been trying to break ever since Daisy even came along. Of course, she missed that kind of wonderment that she’d experienced when she was slightly younger, and now it’s as if Katya was offering it up to her on a silver platter and she was just refusing it.

She groaned, knowing full well that she needed to ease up on herself and let loose once in awhile. Pushing herself up from the ground, she dusted the dirt off from her palms. 

“No one’s getting naked though,” She reasoned. “You’re still my client at the end of the day.” Trixie was unsure whether that compromise was directed more at herself or Katya. 

“Ever the professional one, aren’t you?” The older of the two noted, kicking off her Doc’s as she unbuttoned her jeans pulling them down.

The glow of the fire illuminated the fact that a smattering of tattoos littered Katya’s legs – a number of tiny stories all inked in black lines and shading. Trixie was curious about the history of them all, but she knew it wasn’t her place. Not to mention, someone as erratic as Katya probably wouldn’t even have meanings for them all; they were just further expressions of herself.

It was only until now that Trixie realised she was staring; soaking up the sight of the woman in front of her, praying that Katya hadn’t caught on to her gaze, but judging by the smirk playing on her lips, she had. Slowly, she pulled her t-shirt up over her head and wandered down to the shoreline where Katya stripped to her deep red lace bra, and black boy shorts. It was such a contrast to Trixie’s creamy toned balconette bra, and matching thong. She was much more exposed than the woman before her.

Now it was Katya who was staring.

“God, now I know why your clients keep coming back to you.” The platinum job reasoned.

“Why’s that?” Trixie arched her brow.

“Look in the mirror for once, girl.”

The Dolly lookalike glanced down, almost scanning her whole body but mainly only seeing the flushed curve of her own breasts. 

“I like to think my patients continue to return to me because I’m good at my job.”

“Well, that too, I guess.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Trixie rolled her eyes, stepping into the water which was cooler than she’d expected. She shivered somewhat, biting the bullet and walking in further. The ends of her blonde curls become limp in the water, shapeless against the barely-there movement of the waves.

She heard the small whisper of lake move behind her as Katya followed her lead. Trixie dipped down, the water to her neck now as she watched the woman with anticipation. There was something so complex about Katya that she couldn’t quite put her finger on – she was a strange being, but she felt inexplicably drawn to her. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person that ever exists on this earth, like everything is so still that there couldn’t possibly be another individual around for miles and miles,” Katya uttered unprovoked. “But that’s so selfish.”

Trixie noticed the woman’s eyes flicker between the trees on the other side of the lake. She always sort of seemed a little on edge. Anxiety had a habit of making anyone feel hairbrained, creeping into every second of every day.

“It’s not selfish,” Trixie said. “Are you scared of being alone?”

“I told you no one would have me,” Katya laughed it off. “Despite being deeply, _deeply_ terrified about loneliness.”

Trixie completely understood joking about her fears and anxieties. Bob had warned her in the past that her dry tone and sarcastic humour would get her in trouble one day, but it was her coping mechanism for the most part. 

“Good to know that you’re human.” Trixie mused. Reaching through the water, she took Katya’s hand in her own, surprised by inviting the warmth of her skin. “Is that why you spend each night with someone new?”

Katya nodded.

“Girl, I’m about five seconds from pulling off this mask and revealing that I’m an absolute fucking monster.” The woman dodged the question as much as possible. They weren’t on the clock right now, Trixie let it slide for a moment – she didn’t need a pen and paper to take notes; Katya’s words seemed to etch perfectly into her mind.

“Oh, you don’t need a mask for me to realise that.”

The platinum blonde yelped, splashing a wave of water towards Trixie who turned so that it wouldn’t smudge her makeup. Instead, the spray hit her hair, immediately soaking it down. She gasped at the coolness of the water, before jumping on to Katya, her legs hinging on the woman’s hips for stability as her hands feebly attempted to push her shoulders down. Instead, Trixie got distracted by the ink staining her skin there – a strange slew of religious symbols that seemed like pure irony.

“I can’t believe my therapist is bullying me.” Katya joked, her hands instinctively coming to the small of Trixie’s back.

The golden blonde swore she felt her stomach lurch at the feeling, revelling in this woman’s touch. 

Silence fell between the two; a passing beat of air as Trixie watched this woman’s blue eyes that mirrored green in the moonlight. Katya was beautiful at the best of times, but there was something so eerily striking about the reflective glow that the night sky cast upon her features. 

Trixie bit the inside of her lower lip, swallowing hard before she broke the contact, but Katya’s fingertips lingered on her skin.

“Come on, we better get back – it’s getting late and knowing Daisy, she’ll be up at 6am.”

“Perfect! I’m an early riser too.”

“Psychopaths, the both of you.” Trixie groaned, heading back to the shoreline. She was dripping wet, and forewent her clothing, opting to carry it instead. The cooler night air kissed her skin with a faint chill as Katya zapped her bare hips from behind.

“Race ya.”

Before Trixie could even register what, the woman had said, she was sprinting after Katya, heaving laughter from the two echoing into the night. It was only a short run to the cabin porch, but the two were insanely out of breath, after Katya’s triumph. Trixie brought her index finger to her lips, ushering her to ‘shush’ before opening the door. They snuck inside, past a sleeping Daisy, closing the bedroom door behind them.

Trixie tried her hardest to muster her giggles as she dipped to the bathroom, grabbing towels for the two of them. She dried herself off, grabbing an oversized vintage Dolly Parton tee she’d packed as her pyjamas.

“Turn around.” She murmured to Katya, as she slipped into a fresh pair of underwear, discarded her bra and slipped on the top. Part of her wanted Katya to take a peek, but she shut that thought down quicker than it came. 

“Gimme a sec, don’t look.” The woman added.

Trixie covered her eyes animatedly with her hands until she was given the ‘okay’ and turned back around. Katya was in an oversized red and black flannel that looked as though it had been worn to death. She was the epitome of a stereotypical lesbian, apparently.

Climbing into bed, the therapist patted the empty spot behind her.

“Just so you know, I snore,” Katya advised, climbing under the covers. “Like…really loudly.”

“Great, I’ll just pinch your nose and count to a hundred.” Trixie laughed, the two settling against the pillows, facing each other.

“Thank you for inviting me this weekend.” Katya’s genuine tone warmed her heart.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Immensely.”

Trixie offered her a sweet smile and tapped her nose once. 

“Sweet dreams then, Katya.”

“Sweet dreams, Trixums.”

* * *

French toast was Trixie’s specialty and the fact that their so-called cabin came with a fully functional kitchen truly defeated the purpose of camping whatsoever – but it was convenient. Katya had set up the small table on the deck, watching on as Daisy foraged for unusual looking leaves that had fallen to the ground. Her innocent imagination entertained the teacher, but she was content with the mug of Americano coffee hugged in her hands.

Trixie balanced a full plate of breakfast out the front screen door, a creak sounding on her arrival followed by the small clang upon it closing. She set the meal down, fixing a plate for her daughter out of natural habit.

“Daisy, do you want maple syrup?”

“Yes please!” The young one yelled back, her voice echoing through the trees. She bound up the porch with a messy handful of colourful leaves and dirt wedged underneath her nails. Trixie ushered her to wash them before eating, and she complied.

The therapist took a seat beside Katya, who almost looked as if she was in a strange trance of meditation as she stared out towards the lake. Without even realising, Trixie had placed a gentle hand upon the woman’s knee, causing her to barely shake her head, forcing a small smile.

“Are you okay?” Trixie whispered, her brow furrowing out of worry.

Katya stayed silent at first, giving a single nod. She took a moment to respond.

“Some days the voices in my head are a little louder than others,” She confided. “It’s usually when I’m feeling happy, that anxiety creeps in and tells me I’m not allowed to feel good.”

Trixie offered her a compassionate half-smile, moving her hand to tuck Katya’s front piece of hair behind her ear. 

“You’re worthy of happiness,” She reassured her. “It’s something that looks so completely different to everyone, but that doesn’t negate the fact that you’re deserving of all those good feelings.”

Daisy bustled out, basically climbing on to the table to reach her plate. Katya took a long sip from her coffee, as they all settled down for their morning meal. Before Trixie could even take her first bite, her phone began ringing in her back pocket. The number was unknown – usually she’d let it roll to voicemail but she knew neither Katya or Daisy would mind if she took the call.

Excusing herself, she got up from the table and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Trixie Mattel speaking.”

“Miss Mattel, it’s Raja Gemini, principal of Westford Academy – I know it’s a Saturday and I apologise for calling you on a weekend,” The woman on the other hand had a slightly husky voice, which was extremely pleasant to listen to. “Are you currently looking for any work in the sexual health teaching field? The position has just become vacant and we’re in desperate need of someone to fill it.”

Trixie leaned against the opposite end of the decking, watching as Daisy scoffed down her food whilst entertaining Katya with a slew of nonsense about cartoons. 

Westford Academy high school was the one adjacent to Daisy’s elementary school, as well as the one Katya taught third grade at. Yes, the section she’d be working at was slightly disconnected from the two, but it would be extremely convenient considering she could just drop Daisy off in the morning and be at work. Her client schedule was tight as it was, but she knew she could potentially switch some things around. Trixie had always been a stickler for never passing up an opportunity. She had Friday’s off anyway and could probably get away with adjusting her Thursday schedule.

“How many days a week would you need me?” She queried.

“It’s currently a part time position, so three days a week.”

“I can only do two, unfortunately. I have too many clients on board at the moment.”

“Understandable,” Raja added. “You came highly recommended from a few PTA members.”

“It’s a small town, Miss Gemini. I don’t doubt that some of them are my most involved patients.” Trixie brought her index finger up to her lips, her teeth silently gnawing at the edge of her nail. “Are Thursday’s and Friday’s alright?”

“Come in to visit me briefly on Monday to sign your contract.”

“I look forward to it.”

Trixie hung up, padding back to the table. 

“What was that about?” Katya asked, picking at her food with her fork.

“I’m working two days a week down at the high school, teaching sexual health.”

Trixie took a sip of her milk-laden coffee, as Daisy quite literally was licking her plate clean of maple syrup. 

“School? As in…the Academy?” The teacher asked.

“Mhmm,” She took a bite from her French toast. “I guess you might be seeing a new colleague around campus.” Her taunt made the woman laugh.

“Huh. I think that’s really cool.” Katya was horribly failing at suppressing her grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what'd you thinnnkkkkkk?


	4. pour out your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for not updating sooner.
> 
> i lost a close family member recently, so when carrie fisher said "take that broken heart and make it into art", i didn't realise how much she was right. writing has always provided me with solace, and i neglected it for far too long. i'm sorry for keeping you all waiting. i know i was technically meant to write the epilogue for htd but grief is the last thing i want on my mind right now.
> 
> i hope you're all keeping well, and i'm wishing you every happiness. i want to leave you guys with a quote from one of my favourite films/books that never fails to warm my heart:
> 
>   
> _"there are some things i know for certain: always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate, plant lavender for luck, and fall in love whenever you can."_  
>  -practical magic (1998)  
> 
> 
>   
> tell those closest to you that you love them anytime you remember.
> 
> with that, i love you all, i hope you enjoy this chapter.

The three spent the day exploring the forest, hiking for a few hours and stopping for snacks every now and then. They’d climbed to a cliff’s edge, which Trixie had cautioned Daisy to stay back from. She was gratified with picking wildflowers, seated on the lush grass that was long enough to cover her ankles. 

“Mommy, can we press these when we get home?” Daisy proudly held up the small bunch of purple hued petals that she had begun collecting. 

“Of course, honey.” She nodded gently, watching on as Katya walked towards the cliff face. She was about a step away from the edge, wind whistling through her platinum locks. “We’re going to need some more if you want to decorate your whole room with them. Stay seated, okay? There’s so many around you.”

Trixie would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared about how dangerously close Katya was to tipping off the cliff. She made her way over to the woman, taking her hand gently from behind. She was careful to ease into the contact with her fingers brushing her skin, rather than running the risk of frightening her. 

Katya held on so tightly that her knuckles became white with pressure. Trixie met the same level of urgency, assuring her that she wasn’t going anywhere. The slightly older woman turned to face her, eyelashes clumping together from tears. The tip of her nose was a pale shade of red. As if this wasn’t a dead giveaway that she was crying, a couple of tears rolled on to her slightly flushed cheeks.

Without a word, Trixie used her free arm to pull her in for a hug. Katya buried her face into the crook of the woman’s neck, their blonde hair cascading together, their hands still clasped ever so tightly.

Trixie would never hug a client. Any form of contact was frowned upon and entirely unprofessional, but right now, she cared more about how Katya’s heart was feeling, rather than her job. She swore she could feel how fast her heartbeats came and went against her own chest, the gentle sobs speaking all words that she had left unsaid. 

Now was nor the time or place to open the can of worms that was Katya’s mind, but Trixie knew there was one thing she had to know for sure – the simplest of questions that meant so much.

“Are you alright?” She whispered.

Katya sniffled, pulling away. Trixie reached her hand to the woman’s cheeks, a thumb brushing the tears from the skin as she closed her eyes, heaving a sigh. Their right hands were still intertwined. As much as she could guess some of the things going on in her mind right now, purely because of the history in her studies and profession, she knew not to assume too much.

“I’m okay.” Her voice sounded so very broken, like a spanner right through Trixie’s heart. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Later.” Katya barely nodded.

Before Trixie could say another word, Daisy came bustling up to the two of them with flowers falling from her clumsy grasp in her wake. 

“Mommy do you think this is enough?” She opened her hands, petals crumpled and bruised. 

The golden blonde glanced down with an endearing smile. 

“I think that’s the perfect amount, Daze. Do you want to put theme in your backpa-” 

“Miss Zamo, are you sad?” Daisy was now pouting.

Katya inhaled sharply to compose herself, and Trixie brushed her fingers over the woman’s cheeks to clear up any streaks that her tears had left behind. 

“Yeah, little one. Just a bit.” She replied.

“But why?” Daisy’s innocence had gotten the better of her.

“Sometimes my brain lies to me.”

Trixie squeezed her hand slightly tighter at that statement.

“I get sad too sometimes,” Daisy added with a small huff. “After mommy lies to me.”

“And what exactly do I lie to you about?” The golden blonde scoffed, rolling her eyes. She never lied to Daisy – sure, she bent the truth on some topics, like her career, but all that knowledge would come in time.

“You hide vege-bles in my food.” The child’s tone was matter of fact, as if she was blatantly scandalising her own mother with this new information. She took any opportunity to hide extra nourishment in her daughter’s meals, and it was too easy to do…until she had realised Daisy had caught on.

“You just wait until you realise how much fruit I hide in your desserts too,” Trixie finally released her grip on Katya’s hand, only to justly tap her daughter’s nose. “Let’s get back.”

Daisy turned on her heels and ran to her backpack, squashing the handful of flowers under the zipper with barely enough room to scrape through. She wasn’t extremely delicate with her gestures, but then again, what six-year-old was?

Trixie turned her attention back to the woman before her. The rims of Katya’s eyes had reddened, her tears receding with only the feeble remnants of them left on her lashes. The therapist didn’t say anything – she didn’t have to. She was given a small nod; a simple ‘okay’ that verified she was fine to continue on. They turned away from the haunting cliffs edge, continuing their walk.

* * *

Their knees touched as they sat cross legged on the bed, Daisy’s faint snores were heard in the next room. Trixie’s palms were splayed flat between them, Katya’s resting on top as they amused themselves by playing ‘red-hands’.

“So, if I catch your hand, you have to tell me a secret or I get to ask a question, and vice versa.” The golden blonde instructed.

“Gotcha.” Katya chimed in, her tone much more upbeat than it had been all day.

Trixie tilted her head to the side, eyes idly watching Katya’s own magnetic hues. Much to her realisation, she knew she was undeniably capable of getting lost somewhere amidst the glassy tone. There was something about this woman that was captivating, but not in a conventional sense – she could command a room not solely based on her beauty. There was something electric about Katya’s demeanour that interested Trixie beyond words. If, through their sessions, she could pinpoint exactly what the reason was, she’d count that as a win.

She kept her poker face strong, teasingly edging her hands away to throw the other woman off – a tactic that only caught Katya’s attention the first time, before she outsmarted her opponent. It was a simple game, but both were playing it with a painful seriousness. Trixie’s perception hinged on the fact she loathed opening up – a wall was always emotionally built six feet high. Katya’s was more rooted in secrets that lacked any form of rhetoric; emotions that were too real and raw that she didn’t even bear to utter to herself in the mirror. Some things were buried so deep she feared what would happen if they were to ever come to light – a prognosis detailed by the ebb and flow of her anxiety. 

In one swift movement, Trixie’s palm moved to gently slap the top of Katya’s hand. The sly interchange caused a profanity from the teacher – a great juxtaposition that strangely excited her. The concept of someone from such a clean-cut profession uttering a word so far removed from her language made Trixie laugh. It wasn’t surprising. Katya swore just as much as any other person, maybe even more. 

“Spill.” The therapist whispered, her tone low to not wake her daughter in the next room. 

Katya’s inhale was sharp, as she was attempting to wake up her lungs with one hasty buzz. 

“Where do you want me to begin?” She asked hesitantly. “Am I talking to my therapist, or am I talking to my friend?”

That question rattled Trixie more than she’d anticipated. She had been expecting it; foreseeing that the familiar warmth in her heart was mutual in Katya’s, too. Instead of feeling that usual security that any human would in those circumstances, her stomach churned. Therapists were not friends. Friends were not therapists. There was no allegiance between the two concepts, and she had no words to detail that.

The lines were blurred as it was, and she’d had no time to verbalise to anyone how she was feeling about it – not even Bob. God, she craved ranting to him. He always had the best advice when Trixie couldn’t see things cohesively because of the roadblocks in her own mind.

“You’re talking to _me_.” That was all she could manage to say.

Katya pondered the sentence for a minute before continuing.

“Last night was one of the best sleeps I’ve had for probably years.” She admitted honestly.

Trixie glowered slightly at the response, almost expecting a juicier secret. That didn’t disaffirm how curious she was to find out why this woman had chosen to share that statement.

“Yeah? Well, it was fucking horrible for me,” She groaned. “You really do snore so loudly.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, princess,” Katya shrugged. “Usually I fall asleep alone, but if whoever I slept with is asleep prior to me kicking them out, I can’t wake them up. I just sort of lay there for hours on end, like a corpse, until I finally drift off.”

“You weirdo,” Trixie cut the seriousness with her sarcasm. “What keeps you up at night usually?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you slap my hand again? I don’t recall the rules detailing two secrets.” Katya’s shit-eating grin made the golden blonde click her tongue, arching her right brow.

“Your turn then.”

Trixie steadied her hands atop of Katya’s, lazily moving the pads of her fingertips back and forth to get the most out of a sudden loss of contact. She was distracted by her own ploy when Katya lightly slapped on top of her digits.

“Come on, Barbie doll. Tell me what I want to hear.” The teacher’s hands grasped Trixie’s knees eagerly, excitement bubbling over into her ministrations.

“What do you want to hear, hm?” She leaned over, smoothing out a few fly-aways from Katya’s hair that was always somehow wild from the day’s hike.

“Why did you become a sex therapist?” The platinum blonde asked, tilting her head to the side out of sheer curiosity. 

It was a loaded question. Of course, Trixie knew the answer, but it was something she hadn’t thought about in a very long time, and the prospect of opening up to someone who wasn’t Bob made her nervous. She could trust Katya though – she knew that much. For some strange reason, despite making her acquaintance not long ago, there was something about her that made Trixie recognise that she was in a safe space.

“My love life was always a little unhinged,” She murmured with a small shrug. Her gaze dropped to her own lap, where her hands now sat. She’d picked up behaviours throughout her dealings with anxiety – habits she didn’t even realise she repeated until she called herself out on it. Her fingers picked at the skin around her nails, just tugging enough to herald a slight sting. 

Trixie was a woman who stifled herself to ‘have her shit together’. Her ducks were always in a row. Order and routine were her best friends. But now this woman in front of her seemed to tug at the threads holding her together, fraying this façade she had so desperately curated over so many years. 

“At first, my motive maybe settled on the fact that I felt unlovable and I wanted to find out why.” She tugged at her cuticle a little too hard, drawing a stitch of blood that she wiped off on her leg. “We all have hang-ups about love and sex, and I guess when you have so many failures, you force yourself to look for the light at the end of the tunnel. My light was getting my degree, and Daisy.”

Katya had noticed Trixie’s little anxious ticks that included skin picking. They weren’t so different. The teacher took the golden blonde’s hand and examined her nailbeds that were slightly deteriorating from these habits. Without uttering a word, Katya brought Trixie’s fingers up to her lips, pressing a soft kiss there. The gesture caused the therapist to smile slightly, but she refused to let her emotions get the better of her – after all, this was her client. She couldn’t look unbiased or weak in front of her. 

“Thank you for sharing.” Katya whispered, holding her hands back out to resume the game once more. 

“Thank you for listening.”

Trixie’s gaze fixated on their hands, certain that she was going to win this next round. Katya teased her a couple of times with false movements, to throw her off, but as soon as she tried the third time, Trixie gently smacked the back of her hands with a grin. Her tactic had worked.

“What else are you dying to know outside of the confines of our meetings?” Katya arched her brow.

Trixie tutted her tongue against the inside of her cheek, her mind a puzzle of constellations, turning over the possibilities available to her. She had the world at her fingertips in this very moment – but much to her dismay, she truly was viewing this woman as her friend and confidant, not a paying client. 

“I’m honestly curious as to what type of girls you’re into…?” She trailed off, almost seeming less of a question and more of a novelty. In the back of her mind, she wondered if there were any patterns with Katya’s sexual partners that would paint a picture leading to her tendencies.

“Any girl,” The platinum blonde was slightly flustered. “Every girl.”

“Could you be a bit more specific?”

Katya groaned, rolling her eyes. “I don’t have a _type_. If you say you do, you close yourself off to so many opportunities – every woman is valid, every woman is attractive in my eyes.”

Trixie was slightly disappointed that she couldn’t tie in her analysis of this woman to her previous partners, or the people she sought out, but it was safe to say that Katya’s heart seemed to be made of pure, solid gold from that statement alone. A bigot, she was not.

Their hands met in the same formation, this time Katya rustled up a win, meaning it was her turn to ask the next question. She saved no time cutting to the chase – her incessant need to know the facts harkened a much shorter response time than their queries prior.

“The first day you met me, you asked me what my kinks were,” She started, biting her lower lip for a few long seconds. “So, what are yours?”

The question took Trixie aback somewhat – despite having spilled some of her most innate secrets only minutes ago. She wasn’t used to having evaluation flipped back on herself, especially in a sexual manner. Her cheeks flushed a subtle shade of pink, deepening where her skin had caught the sun today. The silence that had dipped between them was only made apparent when she felt Katya’s thumb running along the back of her hand in reassurance,.

“I enjoy breath play,” Trixie’s voice was hesitant. “The feeling of relinquishing control…it’s nice to just feel like I’m not always the one who has to be at the top of my game – no pun intended.” The two smirked slightly at the latter.

Before she could continue, Katya’s free hand traced Trixie’s neck from her jawline down to her shoulder in a feathery light touch. It caused the golden blonde to swallow hard at the small amount of affection, but it was enough to knock her momentarily. 

Her mind cradled a fantasy of this woman’s hand wrapping around her throat, clasping the sides with just enough pressure to make Trixie’s breath hitch. But her imagination waivered once she remembered that Katya was her patient, and it was complete malpractice to venture into any intimate grounds. She wondered if mentally crossing the lines counted as morally wrong, as long as she never acted upon her urges.

Trixie cleared her throat enough to break the tension and dissipate her mind’s playground.

* * *

Katya had opted to stay inside the next day. They would start the journey back home later that afternoon, but Trixie and Daisy had opted to spend the morning in the water just outside their front door. The child had taken a liking to swimming and showing her mother all these tricks – including underwater handstands, to which she would then complain that saltwater had intercepted her nostrils, stinging with each inhale.

Trixie’s long golden waves were in a tattered mess as she exited the water, with drops raining down her spine. She wore a high waisted bikini set, her top half looking like a vintage plunge bra, and detailed in a rust coloured 70’s floral pattern. Daisy’s print on her one-piece was so close to Trixie’s that any passer-by would have thought they were matching.

“We need to get you dried off and changed before we head home.” Trixie hauled her little girl out of the water, hand in hand. She passed her a towel which the little girl haphazardly wiped herself off with as they wandered up to the cabin. 

Trixie had the intention of jumping straight into the shower, hence why she didn’t mind if the floor got wet on her way to the bathroom. Daisy was wrapped up in the cotton fabric and piled on to own her bed before distracting herself with the iPad.

“Get changed and finish packing, okay?”

Daisy gave a small nod, but she was already far too engrossed in one of her cartoon shows. Trixie padded her way into her room, half expecting Katya to still be in bed, but the bathroom door was closed and the shower running. ‘Fuck,’ she thought, the floor becoming slippery as she stood there. She needed a towel desperately, so she knocked twice on the bathroom door. 

“Yeah?” Katya called out over the running water.

“Are you decent? I need a towel.”

“The shower curtain’s drawn, just come in, you can’t see anything.”

Trixie braced herself momentarily, with her hand clutching the doorhandle. She slowly exhaled to ground herself, before entering the room that was thick with a foggy mist from the heat of the shower water. She could make out Katya’s silhouette behind the curtain, her smaller curves arching slightly as she rinsed out conditioner from her hair which smelled like vanilla and cloves. 

She took her towel from the hanger and wrung out her own hair, before dabbing the rest of the water from her body. Desperate for a shower, she could still pick up on the faint scent of perspiration and salt from the warmer weather and lake. 

“Do you want to jump in, too?” Katya peeked her head around, cupping the vinyl material around her body to hide just enough of herself. 

Trixie stood dumbfounded. Surely this woman wasn’t expecting that she would just join her in the shower. Friends didn’t do that, let alone business associates. But it was as if the platinum blonde caught on to her thunderstruck expression.

“I don’t mean now,” She laughed. “Do you need to get in after me?”

“Oh!” Trixie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not by her own misjudgement. “Please.”

“Pass me a towel?” Katya cut the pipes off with a single turn of her wrist, before holding out her arm. Trixie did as she was told, and Katya wrapped herself up before stepping out of the shower. The two stood inches apart, doing their best to share the bathmat in order to not get much water on the floor. 

She noticed how Katya’s light hair became a few shades darker when it was damp, and the way her cheeks and chest flushed with the heat. Her fresh-faced nature almost made her look innocent, but despite having just washed, the woman still maintained a rosy pout which was obviously stained from her constant red lipstick application. 

“You could’ve just kept the water running, y’know?” Trixie reasoned with a small shrug. The woman’s eyes looked even more glassy just newly out of the shower. These little nuances about Katya were things that Trixie realised she enjoyed picking up on.

“But I don’t know how hot you like it.” She noted.

Trixie climbed into the tub shower, stringing the curtain closed behind her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She mumbled under her breath as she pulled the straps of her bikini top down, before reaching to her back and unclasping the piece. 

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Her eyes widened at the thought that maybe Katya did actually hear what she said. She slipped out of her bottoms, before turning the water slightly hotter than her friend had it. “Can you toss these in the sink? I don’t want to get them anymore damp – they need packing.” She held out her hand which clutched her bathing suit. 

“Should I get my washboard out?” Katya joked as she placed a stroke of toothpaste on to her toothbrush. “I’ll wring them out for you too, Miss Mattel.” She began to clean her teeth with her right hand, her left wilfully grabbed Trixie’s belongings and tossed them into the sink.

The scent of the psychologist’s shampoo and body wash was the complete opposite to Katya’s – she lathered herself with a fresh floral scent, one that had just a hint of citrus. It was sweet, but not heady enough to send anyone into a tailspin. She was subtle.

It was only now that it occurred to Katya that she really should have wrung out Trixie’s swimsuit, because it was still sopping wet in the sink and if she were to lift it out, it would only drip all over the tiles. She desperately had to rinse out her mouth. 

“Uh oh,” She groaned, mouth full of toothpaste. 

“What’s _uh oh_?” Trixie’s head popped out from the shower curtain.

“I gotta spit.” The platinum blonde had tilted her head back, and foam was threatening to escape her mouth as she teetered the toothbrush precariously between her teeth whilst her hands fumbled to twist the bikini in the sink. Trixie watched on at her struggle from behind the curtain, water from the bikini missing the sink completely.

“Katya, stop, it’s going everywhere!” She was doing her best not to keel over with laughter at the sight of her. “Just spit in the shower, I don’t care!”

“Sink.” The woman protested, toothpaste now running down her chin. 

“If you get your stupid whitening toothpaste on my bikini, it’ll stain it, just spit in the goddamn shower.” Trixie covered her chest as best as she could with one arm, her breasts spilling slightly from her grip, but she was shielded nonetheless, before the other hand guarded between her legs. “Just don’t get it on me.”

Katya stumbled to the tub and pulled the curtain back before spitting out her toothpaste in the base of running water. Trixie stepped to the side, narrowly dodging the line of fire. 

“So gross.” She whined, her chest heaving as she stifled her laugh. 

“You offered.” Katya glanced up at her – her lashes were no longer a stark black from her smudged liner and mascara. Trixie swore she watched the woman’s eyes scan her figure, but she brushed it out of her thoughts. So what if she did? Female anatomy was plastered all over mainstream media, besides it was nothing that this woman hadn’t seen before, and she was covered where she felt she needed to be. “I need to rinse.”

“Nope, you can wait.”

“The peroxide in the toothpaste is going to burn off my tastebuds, and then I’ll lose one of my senses, do you really want that lawsuit on your hands, Trixums?”

“Call me Trixums one more time and I’ll –”

“You’ll what, hm?”

“Fine, just hurry up, and close your damn eyes.” Trixie huffed. She truly didn’t have an answer for her idle threat.

* * *

“Ready to go?” She ruffled her daughter’s hair. Their camping trip was complete for another year, and Trixie would have to return to her professional responsibilities, now complete with a teaching stint at the nearby high school. In actuality, this weekend had become a melting pot of emotions, and questionable motives. She had a lot to mull over, and a lot to vent to Bob about – she was desperate from some clarity.

“No.” Daisy said with finality, but she hauled her backpack on to her shoulders, nonetheless. “I don’t wanna say g’bye to Miss Zamo.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at school though, bright and early.” Katya reasoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	5. the only hope for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> i know this chapter is a little shorter than usual, but i felt like if i added anymore to it, it would have taken away from the sweetness of it all. i'm so sorry for the wait on this one. at this point, i really don't have a definitive upload schedule - i only really write when i feel inspired which is quite hard for me these days. 
> 
> tw: depression

Today was one of those days where Trixie woke up with a weight on her chest – a dull thud with every heartbeat, protected safely by the confines of her ribcage. It was hard to breathe, and her stomach was twisted in a knot of anxiety. Despite her career, she was no stranger to mental illness. In fact, she was a firm believer that 75 percent of people, maybe more, fell privy to disorders of the mind. It was a simple chemical imbalance – it didn’t make anyone less ‘normal’. What truly was normal nowadays?

She pried the covers from her figure, desperately searching within to harbour any energy she possibly could in order to get up. Like simple practice on one of these ‘off’ days, she’d pad her way to the medicine cabinet tucked behind the bathroom mirror and pop a pill in her mouth that helped to quell her nerves. Being in that field, she was not averse to medication in order to aid mental illness. 

Routine was her best friend when she was in this headspace, and thankfully she could get ready like clockwork. Though, she knew the reason for her disjointed thoughts; she was heading into the town’s high school to sign her contract. Her plate was about to be even fuller than just her main clientele, and she was busy enough as it was.

Daisy was dropped at the door of her elementary school, parting with her mother who rounded the corner to the connecting campus next door for adolescents. Her platform Mary Jane’s clacked against the cement floor, transferring the sound against linoleum as she entered the building. Her body was clad in grey flared pants, secured with suspenders, and complete with a pair of large gold hoop earrings to tie in with her black pussy-bow blouse. There was no doubt that Trixie adored colourful clothing, however her style tended to reflect how she was feeling on any given day, and today was slightly more greyscale. She looked professional, but still stayed true to her early 70’s style. 

The bell had not yet rung for first period, leaving the hallways ablaze with teenagers gossiping, piling strenuously heavy textbooks into their lockers, or cautiously avoiding their bullies. She was partial to the odd glance from a jock boy, or a whisper from a girl whose clothes were far too short for regulation (Trixie didn’t care about those rules – they were bullshit in her eyes; feeble excuses for the male gaze). She stopped in her tracks, her eyes following the signs of the hallways, and searching for the principal’s office.

“Need a hand?”

Trixie spun around as soon as she heard that familiar voice. Admittedly, she didn’t expect Katya to be wondering the halls of the middle and high school hybrid. 

“I’m lost.” Trixie croaked with a faint pout. She usually stood her ground, even without admitting defeat, but her sass had fizzled out today. “But what are you doing here?”

“Shared teacher’s lounge – this one has the better photocopier,” She pointed down the hall from where she had just come from. Trixie swore she saw the woman’s eyes scan over her figure, lingering just a little longer on the clasps that attached her suspenders to the waistband of her trousers. “Raja’s office, I assume?”

Trixie gave a barely-there nod.

“Down the hall, on your right. It’s the second door as you walk down, it should say ‘administration’. Blair will take you right on through.” 

“Thank you.”

The honey blonde gave her a gracious smile, before turning on her heels. Before she could even take a step, her friend had sweetly grabbed her wrist, causing her to snap back around. Her grasp was warm – a hint to wait a second.

With her free hand, Katya fumbled around her tote bag full of third grade papers, and finally pulled free a dark charcoal tube of MAC lipstick. She loosened her grip on Trixie’s wrist, placing the cosmetic into the palm of her hand.

“You look beautiful, but,” Katya began, almost laughing as Trixie was taken aback by a mere _but_ in her reasoning. “You’re not wearing my good luck charm.”

“You wear this every day though.” She laughed softly. 

“I take what I can get every day.”

Trixie refused to close her hands too far around the tube, almost desperate for Katya to not let go. The microscopic amount of physical contact was something that pathetically melted her heart; akin to a comforting hug. She wanted nothing more than to have Katya’s arms wrap around her, but alas, they were in a professional setting and she was extremely well versed in keeping good reform.

“Thank you.” Trixie’s voice was quiet amongst the chatter of school kids. Finally, she gave in and with a smile, she was off in the direction she had been pointed.

With a swell push of the door, she introduced herself to the administration assistant who guided her to take a seat. She pulled out her cell phone, flipping on the front facing camera, and replacing her warm toned nude lipstick with a few silky swipes of Katya’s ‘Russian Red’. Within a second, that tube of silicone had become her emotional support item. It was silly, but it still remained to be a reminder that Katya was only next door.

After a few short minutes, the office door opened, and Raja momentarily leant against the entryway, her salt and pepper hair looking effortless as it skimmed her shoulders. She ruffled it for a second, before holding out her right hand – a symbol of professionalism.

“Miss Mattel, we’re so pleased to have you join the faculty here,” Raja stood aside somewhat to allow her into the office. Trixie obligingly took a seat on the outer side of the desk. “As you may know, this country’s sex education system non-existent –”

“You mean chastity or nothing?” The blonde set her bag down on the ground, arching her brow. There were so many things wrong with the curriculum as it was, but personal development was something that had fallen drastically behind many other countries.

“It amazes me that despite how ineffective that strategy is, it’s all that’s taught.” Raja made her way over to the manila folder atop of the filing cabinet, where she pulled out Trixie’s contract. 

“Laziness, I suppose,” She sighed, smacking her lips together gently with the reminder that she was wearing Katya’s lipstick – it made her smile ever so slightly. Just the thought of Katya truly had that effect on her. “Schools don’t want to have to pay for another employee that they don’t deem necessary, so I’m really thankful for this opportunity.”

“Of course,” The principal nodded. “These kids deserve a real chance. The least I can do is give them that.”

Raja took the binder clip from the corner of the contract and slid it across the desk to her counterpart. Trixie reached into her bag at the gesture and freed her glasses from their case before setting them atop the bridge of her nose. Her eyes scanned each clause, and she turned page after page until she found the dotted line. 

This was technically everything she wanted; to help as many people as she possibly could, and now she was doing that with a younger age group. The American school system generally failed a lot of kids with the usual curriculum, but especially with the topic of sexual health and education. Every film depiction that joked about that aspect of schooling was generally correct – they were the laughingstock of the world purely because they had such archaic ideals.

Raja handed over a pen, and Trixie was quick to sign her full name. 

“Is there any area that you’d particularly like me to touch on?” She asked as she handed back her completed papers.

“I’m sure you’ll develop a curriculum plan fit for each grade – but I do think sexual health should be paramount. Also, please for the love of god, teach them about LGBT sex. These old lesson plans barely mention anything like that, and if they do, it’s just a warning that gay people burn in hell.” Raja snorted, storing the paper back into the manila folder and filing it safely away.

“It’s all already on the list,” Trixie guaranteed. “School syllabuses are usually laid out by upper middle class white, straight men who highlight their favourite bible verses before bed every night. It’s about time we changed that.”

* * *

The nights were already becoming gently crisp with a certain electricity that was too cool for the summertime. These seasonal changes were something that Trixie adored about New England – they seemed to ease quickly into the colder months the moment the last day of the season was over. Nicotine smog wafted through the air, elicited from Bob’s lips before he tapped some of the ash off in a tray. The last cicadas filled the silence, leaving a faint echo of their call lingering in the air.

“I hate these kinds of days,” She sighed as Bob dipped his head back, blowing an exhale of nicotine up in a streamline pattern. “Time seems to move slower.”

“Depression’ll do that to you,” He smirked, not in relation to her mental illness, but her feeble attempt at profoundness. “I like that new lipstick by the way.” He limply allowed the cigarette to rest in the ashtray as he picked a stray piece of tobacco off the tip of his tongue that had somehow found its way past the filter.

“It’s Katya’s.” Trixie smiled somewhat, her teeth white against the blood red tone outlining her lips. “I spent the weekend with her, and somehow after those 48 hours, I miss her already.”

“This doesn’t sound like you’re _not getting attached_.” 

The blonde leaned over and picked up her friend’s discarded cigarette, setting it between her lips with a brisk inhale. She held the thick smoke within her lungs, burning what felt like every fibre of her chest. After a few long seconds, she released. Dolly was oblivious to the fact that her mother smoked, and to be fair, she rarely did it unless she was stressed or highly strung.

“I feel like I’m fucking up my entire career,” She admitted, passing Bob back his cigarette. She picked underneath her fingernails, cleaning out the grime there to busy her hands now. “If it gets out that I have feelings for a patient then the Psychology Board will revoke my practicing license.”

“Well, your secret’s safe with me,” Bob tapped the ash off the end of the cigarette, into the tray before him. “But that just means you can’t act on those feelings. Keep that shit locked up.”

“Go against everything I tell my own clients to do,” Trixie groaned, tilting her head back so that her eyes were only surrounded by the view of a sky dotted with hopeful stars. “I’m a hypocrite.”

“Why are therapists the most messed up out of everyone?” He mused.

“Oh, fuck off.” She smirked, running her fingers through her scalp, tousling her honeyed locks. 

“You dug your grave, now it’s time to call it your home.” 

Trixie tilted her head back up, biting down on her lower lip to stifle her own laugh at how dramatic Bob’s statement was. 

“Bit of an overreaction isn’t it?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know, I heard it in a song once.” Bob waved his hand dismissively.

Trixie always appreciated her best friend’s talent of being able to make even the darkest of her thoughts seem like an insignificant speck in the matted tapestry of life with just one comment. It was a relief knowing that maybe her feelings weren’t entirely her own – a figment of her ego that haunted her, begging to be true. But she knew not to always trust the words that lingered on her brain. She’d studied psychology for many years, even after graduating, on her own accord, and the new age era of books were making a breakthrough in the market. It all assisted her in recognising that maybe she wasn’t entirely her own thoughts, rather, she was the vessel separating her own consciousness from them.

Bob was able to lighten the mood just enough for Trixie to sigh a deep breath, calming herself. 

She stood up, her bare feet against the wooden deck. She padded her way over to the railing, revelling in the feeling of the chilly timber beneath her toes. It was strange – Trixie once had dreams of living in a big city, mostly New York, amongst a smattering of skyscrapers, modern architecture and people in business suits slaving themselves away for the pure benefit of corporate America with very little pay off for themselves. She counted Boston as her steppingstone, but instead went in the opposite direction and found herself in Westford. The fresh air burnt her lungs deliciously, and she’d been addicted to it ever since. She had the lake in front of her, a little girl who gave her a reason to wake up in the morning, her best friend, and a reputable career – she should be feeling the textbook definition of happiness, but it was less than.

“You want her…” Bob said finally. His tone wasn’t condescending or full of warning, but rather, kind.

She could lose it all if she gave into her emotions, and she had been doing absolutely everything to avoid admitting to herself how she felt about this new woman who had suddenly trampled her professional morality. 

The overwhelm pent up more than her body could take, and her eyes welled with tears that threatened to spill the emotion out to the universe, making it real. 

“I could lose everything.” She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. 

There was a gentle scrape against the deck as he got out of his chair and stood beside her. She felt his caring grip on her shoulder, turning the two to face each other. Her now bloodshot eyes stung as the teardrops ran down her cheeks. His tender touch brushed them away the moment they hit her barely-there freckles.

“But you could have more than everything.” He assured her, and she sniffled.

Trixie delicately wrapped her arms around his torso, and the gesture was reciprocated. Turning her head to the side, she watched the quiet stillness of the lake which always so beautifully mirrored the night sky amidst the pine.

“I want her.”

* * *

Trixie tossed in her bed, the faint warmth of sunlight reflecting off the freshwater nearby and streaming through her chiffon curtains. She huffed slightly, knowing full well that despite Saturday being her one day off, she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep and catch up on her dreams. Her brain was already privy to the morning sounds of birds nesting outside, and the faint rustling of leaves that threatened to turn that perfect rust colour as the seasons changed.

She tapped her phone screen and a simple 5:10am reflected back to her. Her deteriorating mental state over the past few days made her thankful that she managed to sleep at all. She climbed out of bed, her hair in two plaits that had been mussed from sleep, tied with knotted ribbons at the end. Her fringe was askew, but she shifted it back into place like clockwork.

Her blush pink silk slip stayed on, now accompanied by a heavy knitted cardigan that was so oversized, it failed to cling on to her right shoulder. Quietly shuffling her way downstairs, cautious to not wake Daisy, her feet carried her towards the front door. She slipped on a pair of heavily used brown Doc Marten’s that she’d thrifted years ago to save herself the process of wearing them in. They weren’t her usual style, but they were perfect to do the gardening in – something she hadn’t done in what nearly felt like a year, though it always brought her such peace.

There was something so special about tending to plants and flowers, coaxing them to grow with food and water, that reminded her of how she’d care of Daisy as if she was the most delicate thing to ever grace the earth.

With a splash, she filled up the watering can and began to do her round of quenching flowers that had somehow beat all the odds and were still holding on to their beauty after all this time. Once she had tended to every leaf, she pruned away those who whittled amongst the dirt, tossing them into her compost bin. She had some seeds tucked away for a day like today – where her mind needed a break. 

On her knees, she pulled apart the soil, and nestled viola seeds, settling them in with a drop of water to get them started. By this point, the silk hem of her slip had turned a muddy brown to match her knees. 

“Mommy?”

Upon turning, Trixie spotted a bleary-eyed Daisy, rubbing her face just enough to see stars behind her lids. 

“Daze, what are you doing honey?” She asked brushing her hands against one another to rid her fingers from any excess earth. “It’s Saturday, don’t you want to sleep in?”

“Whatcha doing?” The little girl’s voice was laced with a sleepy croak that would vanish within the next hour. Avoiding the questions, she padded her way over, the bare soles of her feet now matching her mother’s attire.

“Planting some violas, you know, those pretty purple flowers that were with the pansies when Alice went to Wonderland?” Trixie wrapped her arm around Daisy as she approached, gently coddling her against her side. The little one’s small hand wrapped around the back of her mother’s neck, as she examined the handiwork that had just been done.

“Plant more daisies.” The six-year-old ushered. 

The flowers of her daughter’s namesake shrouded the front gate to the home, but it made her laugh softly that she wanted more.

“Now why would I do that, when I have all the Daisy I need right here?” Trixie cooed, pressing a gently kiss to her child’s cheek, nuzzling into her just enough to cause a giggle from her. These were the moments that she would put into the rolodex of her happiest memories when her thoughts were low. These were the moments that mattered. “Do you want to pick some flowers for the dining table?”

Daisy nodded and the two let go of each other before she clambered up the stairs to the top of the garden. She plucked her namesake from the earth, bundling them with the last remaining baby’s breath flowers before scurrying back to her mother’s safety. 

“Perfect.” Trixie gave her a thankful smile as she led her inside and kicked off her boots against the hardwood floors. “Do you want to pick the vase?”

Daisy excitedly nodded and climbed on to the wooden dining chair, half leaning on the table as she delicately hauled what looked like an ivory toned vintage milk jug. Trixie pruned the stems off before settling them into her daughter’s chosen vessel that was now in its rightful place back in the centre of the table. 

“They’re for Miss Zamo.” The little girl said proudly, admiring her creation.

“Oh?”

“Give them to her.” 

“Okay, bossy-pants. Should we invite her over so you can do the honours?” Trixie was already reaching for her phone as her daughter gave a rightful nod. 

“Mommy, they’re for _you_ to give _her_.”

Suddenly, Trixie felt the heat on her cheeks turning her skin the same blush that she was becoming accustomed to at the mere sound of Katya’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think in the comments below or on tumblr @iqkittygirl (i don't really check tumblr much anymore though).


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